


Past and Present

by missema



Series: Allyse Shepard, Space Cadet [10]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Memories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-10
Updated: 2012-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-03 10:23:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missema/pseuds/missema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during ME3 and before ME1</p><p>Anderson recalls how he met Allyse Shepard, and what prompted her to join the Alliance after she lost her family in the batarian raid on Mindoir.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Admiral Hackett sent word to mobilize the fleets as soon as he and Anderson ended their call.  He was certain that it was the Reapers, the threat Shepard had been warning everyone about for the past few years, ever since her ascension to Council Spectre.  Her dog tags had been in his desk since she'd turned herself in and he rummaged through the drawer until he found them.

'Shepard, Allyse H'

He ran a thumb over the imprint of her name against the metal.  Funny how they'd grown so close, like family over time, and here he was, willing to defend her to the death.  There was a time when he hadn't known her name, and he almost smiled at that, not at how they met, that was monstrous, but at how little she'd changed in the intervening years.  It was sixteen, no seventeen years ago now.

#######

 David Anderson stood at a window, looking out at the ships coming into the station, his brow furrowed as he watched the ships go by in silence, lost in thought.  He was waiting, it was his unhappy duty to debrief the commanding officer of an incoming vessel. The SSV Einstein docked at Arcturus Station with surprisingly few of the rescued colonists from Mindoir aboard it.

"We got there too late.  The batarians were ruthless."  A serviceman breathed, the words laden with guilt.

"People," the shaken lieutenant choked back a sob, "Were herded like animals into cages, slaughtered in front of us as a warning not to get any closer."

"God, I've never seen anything like that.  It was fucking horrifying."  Even the grizzled XO was visibly upset.  Instead of searching for immediate answers, Anderson let them go get medical attention, frowning as he overheard bits and pieces.  There was going to be fallout from this, the Alliance couldn't ignore a raid this size, even if the Hegemony would  officially deny any ties to the slavers, he knew that they encouraged this kind of attack.  Damn batarians.

The marines onboard didn't have the words to truly recount the scene.  Batarian slavers had been killing and capturing left and right, obliterating the colony.  People were penned in cages like animals, locked in collars that shocked them if they tried to move away.  Young children crying, the dark, brutal voice of a slaver screaming at them to shut up, enforcing silence with a strike from the butt of an assault rifle.  There weren't many people left afterwards, the colony was set on fire to prevent the Alliance from moving in swiftly to aid any survivors lucky enough to have escaped the raid.  The people that they saved had been outside the main colony at the time of the attack, with the exception of one young woman.

She sat huddled in a corner with her knees pressed to her chest.  Dirty hair filled with the smell of soot and ash hung lank around her shoulders, and part of the length on the left side burned away, inches shorter than the right, but still long enough to hang down her back.  A over large, old coat was hanging around her, obviously not hers, and she kept sticking her hands into the pockets, pulling out things she didn't let anyone else see, probably the only remnants of her life that she had left.  There were huge, deep shadows under her haunted eyes, and she'd grown thinner on the short trip to the station.

Traumatized and not willing to talk, the marines had kept their distance, hoping that someone more qualified could get her story out of her.  Whenever someone came too close to her, she set up a forcefield from her omni-tool.  It wasn't until later that they found out that it was a sweet sixteen present she'd gotten a few months earlier, from parents that wanted to encourage their technologically minded daughter.

But then, landing on the dock after traveling for days out in space, no one could get anything from her, at least, nothing she didn't offer.  They had yet to discover her name.

It was quite an impressive bit of shielding she had going on, that much he could see just from when she activated it to keep the station staff away from her, insisting that she was fine to walk on her own and telling them in quite an exasperated voice that there was no need for the stretcher they had ready.  The field she put up had some kind of dampening set into it, foiling their attempts to scan her biometrics.  Her voice was forceful, not at all timid or shy.  She commanded the people around her as if she had only deigned to let them rescue her, and Anderson was surprised at her presence, rare enough for people, practically unheard of in a teenager.

She was brave, she'd fought a few marines until she'd realized they were Alliance, not the slavers.  It had been the shock that propelled her to fight, the unexpectedness of the adrenaline that took control, making her want to attack everything in order to protect.  She'd gotten off a good cryo blast before she realized that they weren't trying to hurt her and instead let herself be led back to their shuttle, lifted away from her home.

This was a farmer's daughter?  She should have been in a specialized engineering program somewhere on Earth, not languishing out in the colonies.  The young woman wasn't going to let herself be scanned or give her name until she was good and ready, probably not until she could sort through the situation in her own mind.  Some of the best soldiers he knew didn't have that kind of resolve, especially not after the type of ordeal she'd endured.

Anderson decided there that the girl was special.  He had the time, ever since his mix up with Saren five years previously, the assignments had been more desk work and less and less out in the field.  Even if he didn't have the time to do it himself, he'd have someone else follow up with her, make sure she wasn't out there alone now that her family was gone.  


	2. Chapter 2

A few days later, he heard her arguing with one of the nurses.  
  
"We're going to call your next of kin, and see if they can take you in. There's nothing to go back to on Mindoir."  
  
"I'm not going with some stranger just because they are 'related' to me. Fuck that. I'm going out on my own."  
  
"We can't let you do that. Technically, you're still underage."  
  
"We'll see about that." There was a foreboding her in tone that let Anderson know she was up to something. She was courageous, and he wouldn't be surprised if she'd already completed the paperwork to declare herself independent. The girl didn't strike him as the type that sat around letting her fate be decided for her.  
  
They'd finally been able to identify her, though she hadn't let them do much for her. She was Allyse Haley Shepard of Mindoir. Her parents bought into the colonization program before she was born, and left Earth for the promise of lush, green farmland and a new start. There were records for a sister, Amanda, but no sign of the younger girl. Damn shame that, and Anderson found himself hoping that her whole family had been granted the mercy of death instead of the horrors of batarian slave camps.  
  
"Come now, Allyse, we just want to help." The woman pronounced her name like "Alice", clear that she had only read her file and not spoken with her.  
  
" _Alice_ doesn't live here anymore. My name is Ah-leese. And I'm going to need more than good intentions from you and some stranger with the name Shepard to survive." Anderson smiled slightly as she delivered the rebuke.  
  
He left without talking to her, because truthfully, he couldn't figure out what to say to her. She seemed just as likely to bite his head off than to talk to him, and he couldn't really fault her for that. He was a straight up soldier, and though he found her technical aptitude impressive, couldn't give her much more than an overview of combat engineering. She'd probably put him to shame, and bounce him out of her room to boot.  
  
Pulling up the personnel profiles of engineers on the station, he found one that might be a good match. Lieutenant Marie Martins, from Bekenstein. Another colony kid might have something in common with her personally, although the ritzy Bekenstein was a far cry from the rural farms of Mindoir.  
  
Not long after he wasn't surprised to learn that she'd been discharged, though he was dismayed with the doctors that let her go without making follow up appointments.  He got permission to send Lieutenant Martins, an engineer who'd enlisted at eighteen, to check in on her, make sure there were no problems that the Alliance needed to be aware of. There was no time for him to do it, but he wasn't going to let this girl go without someone looking out for her. He transferred Marie Martins to Vancouver, putting her in the recruiting program. It would help if she had an official title, and wasn't just doing him a favor.  
  
It was over a solar year later when the he got an update about her while stationed at Alliance HQ on Earth. It was good timing, he'd just come from the Citadel and had plans to visit Cynthia, and a few other people still here on Earth that he hadn't seen for a while.  But first, he wanted to check in with Martins, the lieutenant was requesting his help speaking with the girl.  
  
"You know her now, far better than I ever did.  What help could I provide?" Anderson was curious and willing, but didn't think he could help too much.  
  
"She just wants to know more about the Alliance, and she knows I'm trying to sell it to her. Convince her without putting too much sell on it. She's worth the effort.  I usually talk to her at her job, she works in a diner, in the kitchens."  
  
"Why's she working in a diner?"  
  
"The funny thing about being a colonist is all the paperwork they sign." Martins explained with an exasperated sigh. "Things like slave raids or other risks aren't covered under insurance. What little money she got from them was for the destruction of her family farm because the batarians set fire to it. She was declared legally an adult before the Alliance could release her and she's been on her own ever since. Stuck close to Vancouver though, I think she wanted to be near the Alliance, something that reminded her of home."  
  
"And she wants to join up?"  
  
"Not entirely convinced yet, but grateful for the rescue off Mindoir and would be a big asset. I've been trying to get her interested in the engineering programs, since that's where her skills lie, but she's command material, I'm sure of it, sir. That's why I'd like you to come along."  
  
They went to a diner not far from headquarters, a worn little spot, a little dingy, but clean and filled with soldiers.  The door was open, letting in the cool autumnal breeze, and a few dead leaves followed him over the threshold.  He saluted back at the few that saw them enter and sat down at an empty booth while Lieutenant Martins talked to the bald man stationed behind the counter.  She was obviously known to the staff and the burly man in front nodded a few times before heading back to the kitchens.  Anderson shifted in the worn plastic booth, grateful when an older woman came around and filled his coffee mug as they watied.    
  
"I'm on break!" A voice yelled from the back of the diner, and Anderson turned to see the girl coming out of the kitchens.  
  
She wasn't as gangly as Anderson remembered, but still didn't look the picture of health. Probably working too much, earning just enough money to get by. It had to be hard out here alone and he found himself curious about all the things he hadn't thought to ask before. Where did she live? Was she alone?  
  
"Oh right, before I forget, just call her Shepard. She prefers her surname." Martins hissed in a whisper as the young woman approached their table. She wore an apron over plain black pants and shoes, paired with a white t-shirt. Her hair was still long, but tucked into a neat bun at the nape of her neck.  
  
"I remember you." She said to Anderson. Her voice was neutral, but she was sizing him up, trying to figure out if she could trust him. In response Anderson put his hands flat on the table after extending one to shake with her. He made himself as open as possible, not wanting her raise her defenses.  
  
"Hey Shepard, this is Commander Anderson."  
  
"It's good to see you again, sir." Shepard said.  
  
"And you, Shepard."  
  
The meeting wasn't what Anderson expected, instead of talking about the Alliance and all of the benefits of joining, Shepard asked shrewd questions about his missions, the training he received, what he did when he was off-world. He found himself recounting stories he hadn't told in ages, and telling her about his N7 training.  It was almost as if he was being interviewed, and Anderson had to stop and think at times, trying to frame the best answers for her many questions. A few times Martins interjected, deflecting a few questions that might have been considered impertinent to ask a commanding officer, though he could tell that Shepard hadn't meant to offend, but was merely curious.  
  
Her break was only a half hour long, and after watching her eat between questions, her omni-tool beeped and signaled the end of her lunch.  
  
"Thanks for talking to me, Commander." Shepard said as she got up from the booth. She straightened her apron as she did, taking great care with the stained garment.  
  
For all her toughness and smarts, she still seemed impossibly young to Anderson. He couldn't believe she was months away from being eighteen. But he hadn't been wrong in assigning Martins to her, the talent was there and she was command material. A little rough right now, but he could see it clear as day - she could give an order and people would follow it, follow her, without question.  
  
"Hey Shepard. One more question." Anderson said, turning to face her. She stood at the end of their table as if she were taking their order, but said nothing, waiting for him to talk.  
  
"Why did your parents get you an omni-tool?" He thought he knew the answer, but he wanted her to say it.  
  
"Because it's standard for soldiers." Shepard answered, then turned away, going back to work.  
  
"Sir?" Martins asked, confused.  
  
"She was always going to join, Lieutenant. She just wanted to be sure."


End file.
